Taken
by PICNIC-at-the-disco
Summary: Her old family was just a cruel joke of the past coming back on her. Samara Potter was no longer Harry’s innocent twin, no longer Lily and James’s little girl. She was a trained murderer, trained to slaughter the Light. She was trained to kill.


Taken.

Her old family was just a cruel joke of the past coming back on her; Samara Potter was no longer Harry's innocent twin, no longer Lily and James's little girl. She was a trained murderer, trained to slaughter the Light. She was trained to kill.

XOXOXOXOX.

AN/BTW sorry if you've already read this chappie, I've added a bit on at the end, so the chapters slightly longer. Cheers.

Chapter one- Soul Catchers.

The rotting, salty aroma of dread lingered in the chilled, shadowed manor of the Potters- it overwhelmed the nostrils leaving a sombre and grave atmosphere. Only two hours before the 'accident' took place everything was fine, everything was at ease, everything was at it should be. Everything was just a cruel joke waiting to be cracked.

A chilly, violent wind was whipping at the long, burgundy curtains of the luxiourious living room. It carried on and on, the ferocious breeze leaving a path of destruction wherever it travelled. The numerous music books which just a few hours before lay neatly composed on the oak grand piano in the corner of the lavish room, now had their pages wailing ferociously this way and that in the brutal weather.

Two pale, colourless adult bodies lay un-conscious in the middle of the wooden floorboards, a small equally un-conscious baby resting in the woman's arms. At first glance it would look like the small family had deceased and had gone from this world. On further inspection, you would realise that the gentle rhythms of heartbeats indicated the life still running desperately through their veins.

The Potter family suffered a great loss that night. Never to be forgotten, they felt sure to be killed that faithful night, yet, their lives were miraculously spared. The memory, however, of another small baby lay eternally carved in the family's heart. They had lost her; Harry's twin sister, James' and Lily's daughter. Yes, they had lost the forth and final member of their little, fulfilled family. They had lost Samara.

Precisely three hours after the 'accident', the motionless family were thankfully found and taken straight away to St Mungos. For extensive days, the house was searched thoroughly by top auror experts for the form of one Samara Potter. She was no-where to be seen. What the auror's did find, however, was the imposing, intimidating symbol of the dark mark scratched deeply onto the deep wooden frame of Samara's baby crib. Ever since the discovery of the symbol, the auroas were certain on the kidnappers of the baby.

Death Eaters.

Death Eaters- sent by only that of the darkest Lord of all time, with powers so wicked, he could defeat any threat, any hurdle that got in his way. Feared by almost all, the magical community did dare not speak his name. Yet, they all knew who he was, who could not know of the Dark Lord? Who could not know of Lord Voldemort?

XOXOXOXOX.

"You're late, Layla," Samara smirked coldly at this remark; she knew master had been counting precisely ever since the arranged time of 10 pm. This was a usual habit of his; he was not one for tardiness. Still, she couldn't help but suppress a shiver at her master's voice, so bitter, so cold, so…un-human. "Then again, you are usually late, what do you say for yourself?"

"I say…By how long am I late by?" Samara knew master would never hurt her in any way, he was the Farther she never had, and for that, she would be forever faithful.

"3 Minutes and I trust there is a good reason for it, my child," His voice echoed throughout the icy, stone room, bouncing off the walls, piercing the silence. You would have thought, after 16 years of being accustomed to this room Samara would be used to it, yet, she somehow doubted she could ever get used to the room. It was the one room she feared, it was her Master's main chamber room, the room he used to summon his servants and slay his foes in.

"Forgive me, I was caught up in my…hobbies, it keeps me human," Samara spoke almost whispering, frightful the walls were somehow listening to her speak. Her delicate, beautiful features lay strong and tough, her emerald orbs, nevertheless, gave away her timid, afraid feeling. Samara had always hated her eyes, the gateway to her soul. She hated the fact people could, if they looked close enough, be able to tell her traitorous emotions. "It won't happen again, Master."

"Be sure it doesn't, dear Layla, I don't want to hurt you, but punishment and pain is the only way to change bad…habits." Samara's features suddenly twisted into an un-easy expression, soothed by the immediate cackle of her master's laugh. "But no, I would not hurt you, you look scared of me, be not afraid- fair Samara."

Samara let out her breath of fear as her master stepped forwards towards her; he extended his long, whitened fingers and lovingly pushed a strand of jet black, curly hair out her face. The touch of his hand against her skin felt like someone was tracing an extended, frosty fingertip up her spine. She shivered, her vast thicket of coal curls resting wild yet striking against her blood red robes; it was what made her master call her Layla. Dark Beauty.

"Master, back to the situation at hand, what is it you want me to fulfil?" Samara was used to her missions, she may not agree with her master's morals, yet she fulfilled his wished. She had slain many times for him, had been taught the darkest of spells, the greatest, complex potions, she had much more knowledge of magic than any other typical 17 year old teenager. "Is the assignment with the rest of the Soul Catchers?"

Her master's red, ruby eyes glimmered amused and proud at her questions, he had brought his surrogate daughter up well, she was proving to be the most useful weapon, useful more than even his most loyal Death Eaters. "Yes, yes, the target is a powerful auror mudblood with the name of Rasmame Smith, part of that old fool, Dumbledore's Order. I wish for you to perform the task with your fellow Soul Catchers, Merlin knows they need some practise."

Samara smiled slyly at this comment, the Soul Catches were a group of four teenagers, un-known from the rest of her master's Death Eaters. They performed the Dark Lord's personal tasks, bringing him victims, or simply slaying whoever got in his way- any orders Voldemort did not want his Death Eaters to know about. Samara herself was not known to any of the Death Eaters, she was the Dark Lord's secret, and intended herself to stay it.

The Soul Catches was the Master's way of ensuring power even when his most faithful Death Eaters were gone, it was the next generation of Death Eaters- and the small group was turning out to be surprisingly useful.

Samara, ofcorse, was the most magically experienced, having done raids before with that of Lord Voldemort himself. She had fought first hand with un-suspecting victims, had won many tough battles, and was the Soul Catcher's bodyguard if one of the group got in a tight situation. In these past raids with her master, she just looked like any other faithful Death Eater, black robes, black hood, black boots. Unsuspected, she did what she had forever been trained to do. She fought the Light, killing whoever got in her way.

"Just tell me the whereabouts and I'll get the 'Catchers' right on it, Master, he wont know what hit him," Samaras eyes flashed dangerously with power, it was one of the many traits she had inherited from her master ever since the kidnapping a 16 years previous. Power and evil were having an impact on the once cheerful, happy girl's life.

"I trust I won't be disappointed, I have the location and time right here," the Dark Lord extended a shabby piece of parchment to the egger teenager. "Oh, and Layla?"

"Yes, Master?" Samara replied smirking to herself at the thought of another successful victory for the dark side.

"Be careful," he warned, seriously, before cracking his distorted, waxy features into a wicked grin.

XOXOXOXOX.

It had been many, lengthy hours before Samara made it to the Soul Catcher's hideout. Hidden deep in one of the most untamed and fierce woods of Britain, the teenagers were ensured of their privacy when meeting.

Pacing her way through the many towering, great trees which lay haphazardly through the wood, Samara began to lift up the left sleeve of her crimson robe, revealing a coal black character carved deep into the skin. The Dark Mark. She flinched slightly, remembering the pain which had gone through her arm when she had it done- a full two years previous. Pressing hard with her porcelain hand against the mark, she summoned her fellow Soul Catchers, informing them to be at the Hideout for their next mission.

The crispy ground of the great wood was covered in multicoloured, mesmerising leaves. Samara loved autumn, gazing at the trees natural art with awe, nature was in her eyes, life's prided beauty. She continued to softly pace for another half an hour before she came to a petite clearing. Rushing over to the middle of the glade, Samara quickly moved aside the many leaves covering its floor, revealing a wooden, shabby trap door. Extending her ashen hand, she undid the lock and began to decent into the depths of the ground.

The hideout wasn't grand, it wasn't luxury, it was merely a small room which the teenagers could meet in without looking suspicious and undetected. Four oak wooden chairs lay in a circle facing each other, a ragged looking table in the corner had many daggers, weapons and vials of potion upon it, and a weary, dusty bookshelf on the opposite wall held vast amounts of tattered volumes and novels. Everything the group needed for attacks lay safe and stored in this room.

Samara seated herself on one of the chairs and waited patiently for the arrival of her fellow Soul Catchers. She didn't have to wait long. After a while the second member entered the space, swiftly coming through the trap door in a haze of sapphire and navy. Julious Lestrange. Julious and Samara had been close friends ever since their young years; they both grew up getting tutored by the best, most powerful teachers. Never attending Hogwarts, they were the closest each got to a classmate; their friendship was a powerful one, never to be doubted. Julious grew up with Samara before he left to be reunited with his Mother, who had escaped Askaban earlier this year.

"Samara," Julious nodded to her respectfully and solemn, before breaking his handsome features into a wide grin, azure eyes shining, reflecting his deep blue robes. "I've missed you! Merlin, it's been forever."

Samara clambered off her chair to pull her best friend into a tight bare hug. "I've missed you too; I've been busy, training and all that." She waved a hand lazily in the air, not wanting to make a big thing of her dark training. Samara's cold exterior vanished when she was with Julious, he just made her happy, and she made him happy, they made each others lives bearable.

Julious was a tall, muscle bound teenager, over the years he had inherited his Mother's good looks, his chocolate thicket of hair lay tamed and smooth over his head. Still in their tight embrace, Julious breathily whispered in Samara's ear, "When are the others coming? I came soon as I felt your touch against my skin." Samara and Julious stared deep into each others glimmering orbs, what had once been just friendship appeared to be changing into something much more passion filled.

"Now, now lovebirds, there's a time and a place for everything." Samara and Julious quickly broke their hug gazing shocked at the sudden arrival of their fellow Soul Catcher. "Honestly, make it less obvious next time," the boy's voice trailed slyly from behind his emerald hood of his jade robes. Draco Malfoy.

Walking towards the pair, Malfoy lowered his hood to reveal his blonde, pale features. He extended a hand first towards Julious, who shock it grinning mischiefly and then towards Samara who shock it less than encouragingly. They had never really 'clicked', Samara and Malfoy. Julious however, had developed friendship with the blonde haired teenager soon after greeting him.

The three Soul Catchers took their places in the circle, waiting patiently for their final member. Before long, the trap door creaked open once more, and a golden robed figure stooped in, taking down her hood as she walked to the circle.

"Sorry I'm late, I got a bit caught up getting out, but its ok now," the girl talking smiled shyly, straight blonde hair resting just below her shoulders was swaying in the breeze the trap door had let it. Rihanna Wolf was one of their Master's most faithful Death Eater's daughters; she had proven herself worthy of the Soul Catchers many times in spying and potion creating. Her chocolate eyes showed no sign of a soul reflected in them, she had overcome too much in her lifetime, death was a common presence in the Wolf household.

"It's ok, Rihanna, sit down, we have much to discuss…"

XOXOXOXOX.

Evening dimness had begun to shadow the innocent, harmless occupants of Marshland Road; street lamps glimmered on, leaving long gleams of white light, joggers commenced on making their way home after their nightly run, and the young Smith family sat down preparing for their usual Sunday dinner of Mrs Smith's succulent roast chicken with all the trimmings.

The Smith's were new to the roles of the busy parent; precisely one year ago the greatest gift of a baby girl was brought to them, and they cherished her with as much love their hearts could emit. Their house was as usual as any other typical muggle dwelling, mainly as Mrs Smith herself was a muggle. She fell in love with Rasmame Smith on a holiday a few years previous- they had been inseparable ever since.

The cream tablecloth of the small wooden table was filled to the brim with the most delicious food human hands could create; Mr Smith sat at the head of the table, un-aware that the luscious food in front of him would be the last he ever saw of his wife's skilful cooking. Melissa Smith sat innocently smiling- the only way a baby can, gazing up at her farther from her pink highchair. She did not cry, she did not scream, she just sat there, with her loving family, enjoying her mother's delicious cooking.

Underneath the dining room's window ledge laid two nervous, tense teenagers, witnessing the adoring family together, waiting for the perfect time to shoot their signal. Even thought they were not involved in the direct killing of the family, they both couldn't chuck the feeling of anxiety from out their systems. The remaining other two teenagers were assembled next to the shadowed utility room door, remaining there until the all-clear sign was given from the other two panicked adolescents.

"So, remember, master said kill all of them, don't spare the blood traitor's family's lives," Samara had been on homicides like this in the past, but those were with her Master, and back then she was certain she wouldn't get caught. "Kill all, even the..the.."

"Child?" Julious finished for her, he knew Samara was nervous, even if she would not admit it, but he knew that she had greater power than Draco and Rihanna combined- they were just there in the group it seemed as lookouts, himself and Samara were the actual killers.

"Yeah…" Samara replied, her deep emerald green eyes glistening in the setting sun. "Its time, Malfoy's just sent his signal" A subtle lime spark of light came towards to the pair, informing the two of the Smith's decent from the Dining room- their last meal had finished.

Immediately, Samara gripped her wand, coal coloured mask placed firmly upon her face and lifted the hood of her jet black robes. In a flash, Julious had kicked down the utility room door and started into the modern, muggle house. Samara at his side, they both pulled out matching daggers and sped into the kitchen.

Mrs Smith, shaken by the noise of the door being striked, whipped abruptly around, in her tanned arms her child peacefully laid. With one look at the two un-expected visitors, she let out a shrill, ear splitting scream, clutching her baby tighter whom now had a pitying smile pasted upon her face. At the same moment Mrs Smith let out her screech, Julious extended his silver dagger and prepared to hurl it at the quivering body of her. In one brief movement he let the dagger go, it flew smoothly, gliding through the air and right into the woman's chest. A perfect shot.

Samara raced into the Living room to find Mr Smith, armed, a look of fierce determination on his features, his wand out, prepared for battle. He started towards the teenager, but she was too quick for him. Extending her dagger in perfect timing, she silkily launched it, a mirror image of Julious's shot, it striked the man perfectly. He stumbled wearily, reaching out towards Samara. "You will never win," Mr Smith's croaked last words seemed meaningless, and Samara smirked victoriously. "Oh? But I think I just did."

Kicking the staggering body of Smith onto the cream carpet, she witnessed his crimson blood trickling out his newly constructed wound and for a brief moment, Samara felt pity for the weak young man laid out in front of her. She quickly shunned these thoughts to the back of her mind and joined Julious again in the kitchen. "Care to do the honours?" He asked while pointing to the bundle of cloth in Mrs Smith's deceased arms. The child. "Or, we could both do it together?"

"Together," Samara agreed, extending her blood stricken wand while Julious did the same. "Arvada Kadebra!" Their screams of the sinful curse shattered the air, like delicate broken glass.

The job was done, Samara had fulfilled her assignment independently with the rest of her fellow 'Soul Catchers', yet, she felt merciless at stripping the baby's, innocent, young body of her precious soul before she even got a chance to properly live it. The child would never get to experience life again, and it was their entire fault.

The rotting, salty aroma of Death lingered in the Smith's household; life had been maliciously snatched, much like all the usual raids the Master would force his followers carry out. But this time, Death Eaters weren't to blame for the 'incident'; instead, four young teenagers took that burden. Instead, four new killers would take the guilt of manslaughter, but just like their fellow murderers, the Death Eaters, they didn't intend to stop.

XOXOXOXOX.

The wind howled its vicious tune against the feeble glass windows of the flat. The sounds eased her as she attempted to drift to sleep; its jagged melody reminding her she was safe at home, in her own personal space. Samara had lived in this flat ever since the tender age of 14, her master, with her best interests at heart, had been egger for Samara to independently live on her own, without his protection.

Luxury living was that of a particularly comforting dream when it came to Samara's run down flat. Tucked away in the dreary London Suburbs, Samara had adapted to living in a muggle neighbourhood, creating a living for herself and obediently responding to her Master's call whenever he needed her. Her home consisted of a miniature bedroom with no bed, a toilet which glistened with neglect and a kitchen/living room which contained a pillow, potion materials, a few books and her pride and joy- her broomstick.

Samara wasn't one for materials, mainly for the simple reason she owned so few. Growing up in her master's headquarters, she had never been given a lavish bedroom- she had the 'pleasure' of the cold, clammy dungeon floor.

Samara pulled the filthy, coarse blanket over her shivering body and willed herself to sleep. Today had been too long for her liking. The hike around the woods to the Soul Catcher's headquarters had worn her out proficiently, and then there was the journey of escaping from the Smiths…Yes, it was safe to say Samara desperately needed her rest.

Her eyelids drooped with sleep, and before she knew it she was in the land of dreamless ease. It had no worries, no concerns, and no deaths.

Yet, tonight, there was death.

Samara watched herself and Julious point their wands, in-humanly cruel while the small baby gave them both innocent, polite smiles. Her parents deceased; the youthful child was confused with what her mother was doing lying on the floor while these two strangers invaded their family.

What seemed like a century passed when finally the two teenagers muttered their spell- their curse. Time seemed to slow down when Samara watched her dream, she could see precisely the expression on the baby change from innocence to confusion to sacredness and it broke Samara's heart watching it back again.

She was a killer of a child no older than two.

There was nothing to comfort her with that thought, just those haunted pictures that flashed through her memory. It was going to be a long night.

XOXOXOXOX.

A knock at the door awoke Samara from her spiteful nightmares. She lifted her eyelids, and rolled over gazing out the petit, dusty window. A crisp, fresh morning greeted her- not a cloud in the sky, but the air itself seemed frozen. Hosting herself from the floor, she went to open the door of the flat and greet the figure waiting there.

"Julious! I was wondering when you'd get here, come on it mate," Samara quickly forgot about last nights events and focussed on her friend. "I'll be a minute, need to get dressed first."

Julious grinned at Samara's expression of happiness, and let himself in the dishevelled apartment. Having visited Samara many a time, Julious knew of the living conditions she was forced to abide with, still, he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for her.

"So, off to Diagon Alley today? Are we not?" Julious was desperate to get back into the real wizarding world after yesterdays events, he too had been haunted all night long by the Smith's child gazing up at him before he tore her soul out her body.

"Yeah, I need to get out of this place, Master's giving us a few days off," Samara's voice came from the bedroom as she hurriedly got dressed. She scurried around the room and in a matter of minutes, was ready to go.

"How'd I look then?" Samara asked her friend, grinning as she came out the room. She hastily went to grab her broom, the only means of transportation the teens could use these days, what with those aurors watching the fireplaces for Master's followers.

"Same as ever, Layla," Julious replied mischiefly. "Oh, by the way, we need to put on those glammer charms, just incase…"

Lifting Julious's wand over his head, a sudden shower of golden sparks covered his body which immediately began to change his features. His sparkling blue eyes changed to a dull brown and chocolate hair turned slightly ginger.

Samara quickly did the same, neither of the teens needed to utter a spell-they had mastered silent magic. Samara's emerald eyes blackened to a deep brown, no longer emitting the sparkle they did when their usual green. Thick, coiling locks of black hair suddenly lay smooth and straight on her shoulders; she didn't bother to change the colour- black made her stand out less.

"Ready?" Samara breathed, gripping her broom tightly in her clutch.

"Ready." Julious responded, and began to make his way down the tattered staircase of the flat.

XOXOXOXOX.

There we go, you like? Love it?

R

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V

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Just maybe?  
Perhaps?  
I seriously need a beta, any offers?

XO Rock in. Ily lots. XO


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